


The Past is what Remains

by Maluhia



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Charles needs hugs, Depression, Drug Use, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, Mental Health Issues, Overdosing, PTSD, everyone from first class is still alive, no future-logan, possibly cherik
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-10 08:30:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13498336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maluhia/pseuds/Maluhia
Summary: That day, on a beach in Cuba, Erik takes a part of Charles with him, leaving him behind broken and alone.Months later, Hank is the only one left to take care of the professor. But he as he watches him descend into depression and addiction step by step, he decides it's time to call for help.(Takes place directly after First Class, but nobody died except of Shaw)





	1. Prologue

 

A white, sterile ceiling flashing by in front of his eyes. The taste of blood and bile on his tongue, plastic covering his nose forcing air into his lungs.

But, covering every other sensation, there is pain. It's lingering in the corner of his consciousness, impossible to ignore, waiting to jump at him with full force.

There are voices around him he doesn't recognize. He can't understand what they're saying nor can he look into the minds of the people surrounding him.

He wants to open his eyes, to lift his head, to see, where he is, what is happening.

But he can't move. His whole body is frozen in place. Panic starts building inside of him. He can't remember what happened.

Blurry memories of a beach, of a warm body, holding him close. But he can't fill the gaps. Whole chunks are missing. But trying to remember makes the pain flame up again.

An earsplitting scream drills into his throbbing head. It takes a moment, to notice that it's coming from himself.

He writhes in pain, trying to escape the agony, but there is nothing he can do.

For the first time in his entire life, Charles Xavier is experiencing absolute helplessness.

Suddenly there are hands all over him and sting on the back of his hand.

He wants to protest, to speak up, ask what's happening to him, but he's too late. The fluid is already running through his veins, numbing the panic, numbing everything, gently leading him into darkness.

 

The first thing that penetrates the veil of unconsciousness is the sound of sobbing. A woman is crying very close by. Charles' first instinct is to find her, to comfort her, but as soon as he tries to move, the pain returns.

It shoots from his spine straight into his head, making his whole body throb. He has to bite his lips to prevent himself from screaming, but he can't suppress a small whimper.

"Charles?" Moira. Worry and fear in her voice. It's obvious that she's been crying. He frowns. He doesn't understand.

Carefully his mind reaches out towards her, but it can't reach beyond his own thoughts, no matter how hard he tries to fight the invisible boundaries that are holding back his powers. His eyes fly open as her finger gently brush through his hair. He wants to say something, but he is too weak. The pain is on the verge of dragging him into the abyss again. With his last strength, he lifts his hand and holds it out for her. Before she takes it in hers, he is drifting into nothingness again.

 

 

"He woke up briefly, this morning. Only for a few minutes and he was in extreme pain, but he opened his eyes and tried to take my hand."

Moira's voice, hoarse and weak.

"Did he communicate?"

He can hear Hank pacing up and down as he spoke.

"No, neither verbally, nor telepathically."

"It would be possible that the anaesthetics they gave him have some kind of impact on his powers."

"So, you're saying he can't use his powers?"

"Well, we don't know for sure, but it's possible. We'll know when he fully wakes up. It shouldn't be long now."

"I know, I just want him to be okay."

Eyes still closed, Charles takes a deep breath. He tries to reach out to them, to assure them he is indeed okay, but again, he is caged inside his own mind.

A scared whimper escapes his throat.

At once, everybody in the room freezes. "Professor? Can you hear me?"

He opens his eyes, to see Alex bent over him, worry and a hint of fear on his face. Next to him, three other people.

Moira, her eyes all puffy and red. Hank, blue and dishevelled and Sean, looking incredibly small and fragile.

Bile rises in Charles' throat as he sees them, concern and exhaustion written on their faces. He still can't recall everything about what happened, but deep within him, he feels like all of that was his fault.

"Alex, what... what happened?", he groans.

Hesitation in the teen's voice.

"You don't remember?"

"Not everything."

He looks around the room.

"Where's Raven?"

Alex shoots a helpless look at the others.

Hank steps beside him, carefully placing a blue paw on Charles' arm.

"She went with Erik."

A short wave of pain shoots through his chest as he hears the words. He remembers her lips on his forehead. The determination in her voice. And the thought, that he has lost her for good.

"Do you remember what Erik did?"

Hanks' words draw him back into reality.

"He shot me."

The words physically hurt as he says them.

"Indirectly, yes. The bullet hit your spine, just above your hip. They say..."

Hank's voice breaks.

"They say you may never walk again..."

These last words hit Charles like a train.

All sounds suddenly are blurred and he can't make out what Hank is saying anymore. His legs...

_"You may never walk again."_

It echoes in his mind, again and again, slowly sinking in.

It's only when Alex's hand is carefully rubbing his arm and Hank's voice calling for a nurse, that he notices, that he has stopped breathing. But all air seems to have gone from the room.

All he can see is the look of pity and rejection on Erik's face.

All he can feel is pain about his losses, about the betrayal of the man, he had once considered his friend.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The weather is standing in strong contrast to the state of Charles' mind as the white van pulls up on the long driveway, lined with trees leading up to the mansion. The warm rays of the setting autumn sun bathe the old, majestic house in golden light, making it look welcoming and homely.  
But Charles can't look at its cold stone walls and the empty windows, staring at him. He feels empty inside. Before Cuba, for a little while, he felt home here. Now he can't bring himself to be happy about returning. It won't feel the same.  
Even though Hank, Alex, Sean and Moira are still with him, it's not the same. Not without his family. Without Raven, without...  
Before he can finish the thought, a rough tug on his arm makes him flinch. "Whoah, Professor, are you alright?" Apparently, it hasn't been the first time, Hank tried to speak to him. "Yes Hank, sorry, I was lost in thoughts."  
"Yeah, I noticed. We can stay in the car if you want, but the others are waiting inside."  
"Just a moment, please, Hank."  
"Alright, I'm going to get the wheelchair from the boot."  
As soon as he heard him rummage in the back of the car, Charles closes his eyes and tries to get his pounding heart under control. He doesn't even know why he is so upset, but his stomach turns when he thinks about going inside to join the others. What then? Leading a 'normal' life? Not that that's possible now, in his condition. Opening the school? This idea has moved away farther than ever before.  
Nothing makes sense anymore, everything he once believed in is gone. Erik has been right from the beginning. There is no sense in only ever seeing the best in people, in the world.  
With a heavy sigh, he opens his seat belt and waits for Hank to bring the flimsy wheelchair provided.

It takes almost 20 minutes, several bruises on the Professor's legs and a big load of frustration to move the man into the wheelchair. The relief is great as the Professor is finally put and they can make their way towards the house.  
Moira, Alex and Sean are waiting at the foot of the steps leading to the front door. Alex and Sean are both grinning sheepishly as they present a banner reading 'Welcome Home' and a bunch of balloons that they tie to the handles of the wheelchair. The Professor laughs and jokes, but both Moira and Hank notice, that the joy doesn't reach his eyes. "Charles!", Moira finally says and approaches the wheelchair. It's strange to be so much taller than him now. Unsure what to do she squats down to be on eye-level but immediately gets up again when the awkwardness only increases. She wants to say something, something as simple as 'Nice to have you here again.' but not a word leaves her mouth. Instead, she smiles apologetically and gives his hand a slight squeeze. He smiles back but avoids looking at her face.  
"Hank, would you be so kind and help me upstairs to my room?"  
At once, the smile fades from Hank, Sean and Alex's faces. They have imagined the Professors arrival to go down a bit differently. "But, Professor, we got you a 'Welcome Home' cake and Hank also has a present for you and..." The Professor forces himself to a pained smile. "Thank you, Sean, I really appreciate it. But I do feel rather tired and would prefer to have some time to recover. But please, save me a piece of cake."  
Sean opens his mouth again, but Alex nudges him as a warning to let it go.  
"Let's get you upstairs then."

  
Thirty minutes later, everyone agrees that some renovations are necessary. The wooden staircase may look beautiful, but carrying a grown man up the steep steps was no pleasure.  
When the Professor was finally in his room, everybody leaves with some excuse, leaving only Hank with him.  
For a moment, awkward silence lays over them before Hank carefully starts to speak. "I know, that this is hard for you, but we might have to move your belongings downstairs until we have an elevator or something."  
He was surprised to hear the Professor disagree. The man who was always the voice of reason.  
"I know you mean well, but I'd prefer to leave everything as it is. I don't think we should destroy a part of the building for an elevator."  
"Yes, but... how are you going to get around?"  
"I'll manage, Hank." The Professors voice almost sounds threatening as he cuts Hanks off.  
With that, it is clear that Hank is dismissed. He curtly nods his head at the Professor and leaves the room. The last thing he hears before the door closes are heavy sobs.  
His heart feels heavy and for a moment Hank wants to turn around, go back in there, but he hesitates. He wouldn't be any good for the Professor right now. Not, when everything he wants to do is shout at him and shake him after how he talked to him. Shake him for giving up. For letting the team down.  
But Hank swallows his anger and slowly descends the stairs.

The whole day, Charles stays in his room, sitting at the desk, staring out of the window. He doesn't know what else to do. Everything seems senseless, grey and depressing. Everything he thinks about reminds him of either Raven or Erik.  
The huge satellite dish sitting in the distance in front of his window, the photograph of Raven and him in front of Oxford College, the unfinished chess game on the table, that will never be completed.  
Tears rise to Charle's eyes and before he can do anything about it they start to flow. Now, that everyone is downstairs, he finally doesn't have to hide his feelings anymore. The sobs are violent and, after some time, painful, tearing the wounds open that he has so carefully watched over in the hospital. It was hard hiding his feelings from the others. But he is Charles Xavier and he cannot show them, how much he is hurting.  
And so he sits and cries, watching the sun set, and the moon rises, covering everything with its pale light.  
Time seems to be no more than an abstract concept.  
At some point, the voices downstairs go silent as everybody goes to bed. Without using his telepathy, Charles knows, that they are worried about him, but he can't find the energy to care.

Shortly after the others have gone to bed, Alex carefully knocks on the Professor's door. He can't hear any movement on the other side. Carefully he pushes the door open. The Professor sits in his wheelchair, his head slumped forwards. But his eyes are open and he stares out of the window, into the dark.  
"Professor?"  
The man closes his eyes and lifts his head.  
"What is it, Alex?"  
His voice sounds tired and exhausted.  
"I thought you might need some assistance going to bed."  
"That's very kind of you Alex. If you could just help me onto the bed and I will be fine."  
Alex raises his eyebrows, looking at the Professor's outfit, not very suited for sleeping, but he does as he's told.  
As the Professor is settled in the sheets, Alex fetches a glass of water and sets it down on the bedside table.  
"If you need anything, just shout. One of us will hear you. If not you can also..." He puts to finger on his sleeve. "...you know, call us this way."  
The Professor nods absentmindedly and closes his eyes.  
Alex expects him to say something, thank you, or anything, but the Professor remains silent until he leaves the room.

Hank is waiting in the hallway.  
"How's he doing?"  
Alex shrugs.  
"I don't know, I'm no telepath, but from what I've just seen, I don't think he handles the whole thing too well."  
"Yeah, I thought so."  
"I don't really get it though. He seemed to be fine in the hospital."  
Not it is on Hank to shrug.  
"It must be hard being here again. Without the others..."  
"Yeah, but he's not the only one who has lost people."  
"I know, we all have. Just give it some time."  
But Alex secretly doubts that time can fix this.

* * *

 

A small, but strong hand caresses his cheek and strokes his hair, makes a deep, content sigh escape his throat. Without opening his eyes, he knows to whom that hand belongs. "Raven..." The word leaves his lips almost inaudible, but the kiss on his forehead lets him know she heard him. "What are you doing here?" Her hand vanishes at once, leaving a cold spot on his cheek. He reaches for it, but he can't find it. His eyes shoot wide open. "Raven." Only know he gets his bearings. Now he can feel the sand he's lying on, the hot and humid air. He can smell the sea, smoke, gunpowder.  
The realisation hits him hard. He's back on the beach. But there is no pain in his spine, no thoughts and feelings of the others overwhelming his mind. It's only him and his sister, kneeling next to him, crying. He wants to tell her that everything will be alright, to squeeze her hand and to pull her close. But he can't move. Not only his legs, but his whole body is motionless and stiff.  
A distant feat rises in his body. "What's happening?" he wants to ask, but not even a whisper leaves his mouth. Finally Raven opens her mouth, but the voice he hears isn't hers, nor are the words escaping her mouth. "I'm sorry, Charles." It's Erik's voice, soft, apologetic.   
When he opens his eyes again, he's there, his ridiculous helmet framing his grief-stricken face. Still, Charles can't help it but smile at the man who took everything from him. Raven, his legs, his life's purpose, his will to live. Everything he has ever cared for. But Charles can only feel sympathy and forgiveness for his old friend as he kneels by his side, mourning the past. "I'm sorry, Charles", Eric whispers again and shuts his eyes. It is only now that Charles notices the familiar silver coin floating only a few centimetres in front of his head. The last thing he felt is the cold metal pressing on his skin and pure agony, cutting through his head.

  
It's pain that jolts Hank awake, his heart is hammering in his chest, he can't breathe. Instinctively he presses his paw against his forehead, but nothing, only unharmed skin. Relief floods him, but only a moment later he hears a loud, piercing scream. He doesn't hesitate a second, kicks his legs out of the bed and dashes into the hallway, almost bumping into Alex, who is doing exactly the same thing. Sean is also standing in the hallway, next to Moira, their worried looks directed towards the professor's bedroom door. No one of them is wondering about the cause of the scream, they all just experienced it first hand.   
Different to the others, Hank reacts immediately, rushing into the Professor's room.  
The man's eyes are still closed, but his arms are flailing about, an expression of fear and utter despair on his face. As soon as Hank approaches, a wave of feelings that are not his own hit him. Pain and anger and hatred. But also sweet love and forgiveness. Kindness.  
But the scream doesn't stop. Carefully at first, then stronger, Hank starts shaking the Professor's shoulder.  
'Professor? You need to wake up!'  
It takes a while, but eventually, the Professor's eyes fly open. He jolts up, pushing Hank away fiercely. Tears are running down his face, sobs are making it hard to catch his breath.

A big hand on his shoulder. Familiar, but the memory is distant. The only one he can think of is...  
'Erik.'  
It's nothing more but a whisper.  
'Excuse me? What did you say?'  
No, this is wrong. This isn't him. This isn't right.  
'Professor?'  
He looks around, confused, but all he can see is the blue sky and a set of blue eyes.  
The hand on his shoulder gets heavier, every second. This is not what he wants, this is not what he needs. In a fit of anger, he pushes it away, more aggressively than intended.  
'Professor?' Another voice. Also familiar, but too far away.   
He can't. He doesn't want to.  
Everything he can think of is that beach in Cuba. Raven, Erik...  
Everything he wants is to go back, to ask them to stay, to fight for them. But he didn't. Because he's a coward. Unable to stand up for the ones he loves. Too weak, too pathetic.  
Again, flaming anger takes hold of him.  
'Just leave me alone, please.' At first it's nothing but a murmur under his breath, but soon, it grows to be a scream, ripping his throat apart.  
'LEAVE ME ALONE! JUST GO AND LET ME DIE! I DON'T DESERVE YOU! YOU WERE RIGHT TO LEAVE! GO AND NEVER COME BACK!'

He doesn't hear the shocked gasps around him, or the sob Sean can't hold back. He can't see the tears on their faces, their slouched shoulders as they do as they're told and go back to their own beds. It is needless to say, that none of them sleeps that night.

In the course of the next few days, the Professor doesn't leave his room. He just sits in front of the window, staring into nothingness. At night, he lies in bed, awake for hours, haunted by nightmares.  
Everyone tries to talk to him or to get him to eat something, but he just sits in his wheelchair, staring into the distance. Moira leaves eventually, to go back home, but Charles doesn't even say goodbye.  
The lines on his face, usually barely visible, seem to get deeper every day, his expression grimmer.  
But everyone else suffers as well. Sleep is becoming rarer every day. It doesn't take long until a depressing silence falls over the mansion.

It's hard for three teenagers to lead a normal life without anyone to guide them. Solely for the Professor's sake, Hank tries his best to cling to normality as best as he can. Alex is a big help, but with Sean, he sometimes feels like dealing with a four-year-old. But Hank makes sure that there is always enough food in the house, makes sure Sean and Alex keep their rooms clean and help with the chores. That is the easy part, keeping up a routine, doing what has to be done. Otherwise, their days are empty. There is no school to attend to, nothing to do, except for wandering the empty corridors of the mansion. There are no more training sessions, no more lessons, no more missions.  
In the Professor's absence, everything seems to fall apart. They all know, they have to do something, anything, to help the Professor, but it's no easy to come up with a plan.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there :D  
> After silently obsessing over the X-Man movies forever, I had to get this fanfic out into the world.  
> I hope the Prologue has peaked your interest, I'll post more in a few days.  
> English is not my first language, but I did my best to avoid any mistakes.  
> I'm really excited to see where this story goes and I'd be happy to hear your thoughts.


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